


With You

by Celtic_Knot



Category: Hakuouki
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Mentions of Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 20:00:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4718666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celtic_Knot/pseuds/Celtic_Knot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shinpachi/Chizuru: "Hey, I'm with you, okay? Always."</p><p>Shinpachi gets (and gives) a little help coming to terms with the way the war ended.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With You

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I do not own Hakuouki, nor did I in any way contribute to its creation. All rights go to their respective owners.
> 
>  **WARNINGS:** Emotional hurt/comfort, swearing, thoughts on deaths of friends
> 
> This is a drabble prompt I filled (that grew beyond drabble length), focusing on Shinpachi and Chizuru after the end of the story/game.

* * *

 

Everybody talks about wanting to be the last one standing. Shinpachi has decided that it is the worst possible position to be in. Being the last one means memories of all different shades wrapping around your mind, but having nobody to share them with. It means staring at your ceiling wondering if there was any one decision you made that altered your fate. Probably not. It’s more of a series of decisions. One crashing into the next until they’ve plowed a path, kicking up so much dust that you can’t see where you’re going until you get there. Somewhere along the line he picked a series of right (or wrong, depending on how you look at it) answers to end up here. Alive. What fucking good is surviving if he’s the only one who remembers _them?_ His comrades, his friends. Winners write the history books, and they lost. They fucking lost, and so the men he calls friends will be painted in the image of villains. Still, it’s not the failed war effort that drove him to the bottom of bottle after bottle.

It was the news that Souji finally lost to tuberculosis. All that fighting spirit extinguished by a damn disease. The one end he never wanted is the one he got. The genius swordsman of the Shinsengumi killed by his own lungs. Fucking hell. He misses those terrible jokes and mischievous smirks every afternoon.

It was the arrival of word that Hijikata-san was killed in action, making his final stand. Oni vice commanders aren’t supposed to die. Who else will ride their- his ass about curfew, and chores? For every time they butted heads, he never stopped respecting that man. He misses being scolded and lectured every evening.

It was learning that Heisuke had gone down with Hijikata-san, and not having been there to say goodbye. Their youngest captain, one of his dearest friends… Dying is always a possibility for a warrior, he’s always said a man needs to be able to face his death. But damn does it seem like it’s way too soon for Heisuke to be gone. Too soon to be able to eat dinner, and not have that brat ready to start a fight over food. Too soon to not be able to yank him around by his ponytail when he mouths off about Shinpachi being ‘old.’ Too soon to never have the opportunity to tell him he was proud of him. He misses that laughter and those bright eyes every morning.

It was Shiranui bringing him Sano’s spear, and all the implications of it. Dead. His best friend. The one man who he never thought he’d lose. He had nearly accused Shiranui of being the killer, before he saw his eyes. Even enemies can mourn the loss of a great man. For all the terrible things that Oni is, he _knew_ what kind of guy Sano had been. It’s hard to go through each day alone. It’s hard to have a funny thought, turn to tell Sano, and not have him there. It’s like Sano dies again every single day. Every single time he’s reminded that this absence isn’t temporary. He would have given up his right arm before he gave up Sano. It would have been less crippling. He misses drunken wrestling and warm smiles every night.

Saitou he’s unsure of. Saitou was presumed to be dead. Shinpachi won’t believe it until someone finds a body. That’s probably wishful thinking. None of the guys made it, why would Saitou have? Then again, he survived. If he did, surely Saitou could have. Saitou, who’s always been so strong, might not be gone yet. If Saitou’s out there, he hopes they run into each other. He needs somebody to share this with. All this frustration, and pain. Nobody fucking told him that grief is the most resilient opponent that he will ever face. It would be nice to have Saitou’s blade to help him cut it down to a more manageable size.

**_______________________________________________________**

He never did get Saitou’s help. Whether Saitou is actually dead or not, there’s still no more clues.

What he did get was Chizuru in his home, shaking as she held out a tattered and bloody flag. Damn it all to hell. Poor girl, the things she must have seen. But she survived, she’s here. There is someone who is still breathing, whose heart is still beating, who _understands._ She knows exactly what they lost. She can feel it in her heart too. Feel the weight of each of their friends’ deaths, almost unbearably heavy. But now there’s two of them. They can share the load. His grief will probably never vanish. He can only, just barely, look at Sano’s spear and be filled with memories of the good times, rather than be slammed with every possible scenario of how Sano’s life had ended. Strange how they all had lived so much longer than they’ve been dead, and yet his mind continuously tries to fixate on their demise. It’s stupid. Not what he wants for them or himself. But Chizuru is here. Chizuru can help validate all the happy memories. That they _had_ had joy together, it wasn’t just a good dream.

Shinpachi wraps his hands around hers, fingers long enough that he can feel the fabric of the flag past the softness of her skin. Something jolts through him, igniting his veins with terrible realization. This flag had seen it, Hijikata-san and Heisuke’s deaths. It is a witness like Sano’s spear is. It is stained with their blood, and Chizuru’s tears. He’s never been good at dealing with emotional women. Especially not when he’s this emotional himself. There isn’t anything he can say to Chizuru that will make her hurt less. He’s tried telling himself a thousand different things. None of it helped. But he can’t do nothing. She’s it. Chizuru, who was never even supposed to be a part of their group, had seen this all the way through until the bitter end. If that’s not worthy of some serious respect Shinpachi isn’t sure what is.

Chizuru’s tears have slowed, but she’s still trembling. She’s trying so hard, it aches to watch her struggle. She’s trying to be strong. But she’s been putting on a brave face for so long… She must be exhausted. Shinpachi can nearly lose his own pain inside the desire to help her to smile again. He wraps his arms around her, and squeezes. He probably holds too tightly, but she’s so fucking alive. He can feel her hair tickle his chest, and hear her breathing. That flag is pinned between their bodies. They will always protect everything it stood for, and the memories of everyone who stood together under it.

“Shinpachi-san” Her voice may be tiny, but it’s the first thing that’s louder than the imagined gun shots and rattling coughs that have filled his mind. “I’m so happy you’re alive. I- Everyone is gone, I tried to help them. I’m sorry! I tried to save them, but they couldn’t stay.”

She’s like him then. Guilty. How do you let the people who you care about die? Logically, he knows that war is cruel. It takes great men no matter who tries to stand in its way. But he’s thought many times he should have been able to save at least one of them. That’s a tremendous burden, and Chizuru shouldn’t have to bear it. But she will. Because she became a part of their family. So the best he can do is not let her do it alone.

“Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always.” He pulls away from their hug far enough to cup her cheek, guiding her to look up at him. She smiles, barely, but she does. And that makes him feel a little less wrecked than he has in a while. They still have each other, and that’s a blessing. Somehow, someway, they both survived and ended up meeting again. He’s never had any hard and fast views on what happens after you die, but he thinks a certain bunch of idiots may have had a hand in their reunion.

“Thank you.” Her eyes lower. He’s not sure if the missing pieces of their group are more or less glaring to her in his presence.

“And if I know those assholes, they-“ He swallows. This is hard still. But the more he can talk about them, the more real their memories will become. Someday Chizuru and him will be able to talk about the whole gang and it will almost feel like they’re all together again, “they’re definitely still with us too. Sano and Heisuke were probably too lazy to deal with this whole new era bullshit. Those bastards always loved to leave the pain in the ass stuff to me.”

Chizuru laughs. It nearly slips into a sob, but it doesn’t. And he smiles back at her. Progress. They’ve lost a whole hell of a lot. Lives are precious. But their end isn’t really an end. Not when those men have been woven into the very fibers of his and Chizuru’s beings. They exist as they are today, because of the life they’d shared.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I've decided Shinpachi is definitely fun to write. Even if this was sad... Definitely makes me want to write some more for him.
> 
> **This is not the fic I've been working on. You will have something longer soonish. My writing schedule has just been kind of messed up.


End file.
